


In the Arms of Another Day

by EmptySighs



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, XiuHan - Freeform, lumin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:39:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptySighs/pseuds/EmptySighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Luhan crumbling before his eyes, Minseok wishes to be home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Arms of Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> this might be a little confusing, but I quite like how it turned out... so /shrugs/

The ticket remains heavy in his hands, the numbers along with the words  _ departure  _ and  _ arrival _ play a cruel dance before his eyes --making Minseok’s insides churn. The faint sound of  _ The Girl from Ipanema _ seeps through the stagnant buds in his ears, he sinks further in his seat. Through the heavy tint of his sunglasses, he can see figures in a blur, trailing suitcases, reunited hearts and broken ones.

 

His phone buzzes again. He knows it’s one of the boys, reminding him of their flight back home… to the land he grew up on, the streets that molded him.

 

“Tell me,” Luhan starts. Minseok rolls over to his side, facing Luhan who has his eyes to the ceiling. “Do you regret it sometimes?”

 

“Regret what?” Minseok asks, leaning his head onto Luhan’s chest. The hymn of the heart is far better than the dead silence of the night, save for the random whispered inquiries and sweet nothings, he figures. He laces their fingers together and let their hands rest next to his cheek.

 

“This…” Minseok feels Luhan’s chest stills for a second or two before a sigh reverberates through the hanging question. “I mean… being Xiumin and the  _ t hings _ that come with it.” To be completely honest, he has not thought of it… of his regrets. He doesn’t know. With a tiny squeeze delivered to his hand, He looks up to expectant orbs and tiny curling of lips.

 

“Do you?” He counters --lowering his gaze to their entwined hands, absentmindedly watching their rising and falling.

 

Luhan just holds on to him tighter. The comfort that the essence of silence holds is greater than what words could offer right at that moment;  _ they’ve known _ .

  
 

The song halts with an announcement through the intercom. Minseok makes out the words  _ delayed arrivals _ and  _ departures _ ;  albeit, with lack of understanding. He stares at the screen before him, and looks at the ticket in his hands. Their departure is moved to an hour later.

 

When Minseok comes out of the shower, he sees Luhan sitting on the edge of the bed --staring at the floor as if it’s a hollow ground. He kneels in front of the preoccupied man and takes cold hands into his own. “Han, what’s wrong?”

 

It takes Luhan a while to snap out of it. He looks at Minseok with the storms in his eyes… and that's when Minseok feels it. He feels the gaps in between their fingers rather than fill them… and Minseok’s heart starts to swell with his worst fears and uncertainties; although, this isn’t the right time to dwell on it. At least, one of them has to be  okay . “Let’s get you to bed?” He tries, tugging on Luhan’s jacket, which the other has been wearing since they arrived.

 

“Can’t. Jet lag.” Luhan answers in resignation; his body abiding to Minseok’s doting hands. 

 

Every light in the room, along with the words heavy at the tip of their tongues, soon die when both of them are already in their sleeping clothes. Minseok opens up a curtain and rearranges a couch, now facing the window --letting the party of Hong Kong’s city lights creep. Luhan remains seated on the bed.

 

Minseok’s feet leave feathery kisses on the carpeted floor, light --soft-- completely different to how he holds Luhan’s hand again. and he holds onto Luhan, as if his limbs could fill up the cracks, as if his warmth could stop the crumbling, as if he could do anything.

 

_ Yes. I’ll be there. I’m just taking care of something right now. _ Minseok reads it for at least five times before sending it to his members. 

 

“I am  _ tired _ .”

 

Minseok hears Luhan mumbles despite the gushing of the shower over them.   
  
“I’m tired, Minseok.” Luhan repeats, much audible this time.   
  
Minseok turns off the shower, but keeps his back to Luhan --too afraid to face the reality.

 

“Minseok, I’m--”   
  
“I know. I heard--” He takes a deep breath, willing everything he could to not let his voice waver. “I know.” Taking steps closer to the wall before him, Minseok leans his forehead on the cold tiles. They have been on a tilt ever since Luhan has been on his own edge, and this is the peak wherein everything just go down hill in one motion. 

 

There has to be at least one thing to hold on to… something to stop this long overdue crash.

 

“What do you plan on doing now?” Minseok asks, although he has known the answer all along.

 

Minseok’s leverage comes in the form of Luhan’s arms loosely circling his waist. The soft kisses cascading through his shoulder keep them anchored for a while, and Minseok is too afraid to speak, to move. They are standing on thin ice, and Minseok doesn’t want them to drown in the cold. 

 

The  _ cruel _ kisses now sing with apologies and remorse, coaxing tears and frustrations out of him. 

 

“I want to be  _ home _ .” Luhan whispers, resting his head on Minseok’s shoulder. “I can’t do  _ this _ anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy flying here and there-- I just-- I’m tired of it. It’s creeping up to me. You know that.”

 

“I  know .”  _ but what about me? _ Minseok wants to ask, but he chooses not to --swallowing every bit of his hope. “you won’t be coming back with us?”

 

“I won’t.”  
 

A version of  _ Can’t Help Falling in Love _ plays through the intercom, trailing suitcases, reunited hearts and broken ones go on their businesses; Minseok gets off his seat to join them. His departure time rings through.

 

Each step makes his insides churn, but deep down, there’s a voice telling him that he’s taking the right path. This is the way  _ home _ .

 

Minseok soon boards the vehicle, taking careful steps through the aisle. He checks the ticket in his cold hands again.

 

A couple of rows and a door away.   
  
“I won’t, but I don’t know how to live away from you.” Minseok could feel the warm drop on his shoulder as Luhan presses their bodies closer.

 

Once the door opens, Minseok sees Luhan. His  _ home _ with disheveled hair and earphones, seated in a train carriage, staring with wide eyes and parted lips, that soon curl upwards with hopes of mending and understanding.

 

**Author's Note:**

> think of what you want to think. hehe  
> /rolls away/  
> i would still appreciate if you could comment, we could talk about it. lol


End file.
